Jimdandy Headcanons
by The Cry-Wank Kid
Summary: Can I Keep You's obnoxious little brother. One-shots based on headcanons for Jimmy/Dandy. TAKING REQUESTS.
1. I Can't Take You Anywhere

**Warning: Do not read if you don't want occasionally OOC fluff! **

**Okay. I need your help, dear readers. I can't supply all the cute myself. Comment or message me your cutest, silliest, or just plain weirdest headcanon about Jimmy and/or Dandy, and I'll write a one-shot just for you! **

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><p><em>Headcanon: Jimmy is a terrible weepy-drunk.<em>

"...I think that's enough, Jimmy," Dandy says, scooting the bottle of scotch towards himself and away from the drunk boy. "Come on. We don't want a repeat of last time."

"Says _you_," Jimmy slurs, reaching clumsily for the bottle with one mittened hand. "I had a great time." Unable to grab it back in time, Dandy watches as the guy pours himself another sloppy shot, liquor splashing on the bar in front of him, and downs it. He regrets ever suggesting a drink now. He should have learned from last time. They should have gone straight home after _Pinocchio_ ended at the drive-in theater.

Jimmy sighs loudly and gets up, wandering to the corner of the dark pool room. Dandy follows when he sees his friend with his head in his hands, fearing the worst, but when he gets there he finds Jimmy laughing.

"Dandy," he giggles, turning to his rich companion, "Dandy, wasn't it funny when his -_sniff_- his nose grew like that..."

"Come on," Dandy urges. He knows where this is going, even if Jimmy doesn't yet. He pats the wasted boy on the shoulder. "Let's go home."

"All... -_sniff_- ...outta the cage..." Jimmy laughs, pantomiming the motion of his own nose growing like Pinocchio's did. "And Geppeto... -_sniff_- bless his heart... he just wanted a real boy so _bad_, Dandy..."

Looking weary, Dandy takes a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket and hands it to Jimmy, even though he's still laughing. He's prepared now. He knows that sniffle all too well.

"The look on that old man's face... -_sniff_- ...so sad, so sad... -_sniffle_- ...cause his puppet-son is laying all dead in a tide pool..."

Jimmy cracks up, dissolving into raucous laughter with his face in his mittens. After about thirty seconds the guffaws are cut by a whimper, then a sob. Jimmy has yet again lost it. In public.

"Stop that," Dandy whispers as a few heads turn. "You're making a scene. You're making a scene at the bar over a children's film."

"I don't care..." Jimmy sobs.

"You never cry when you're sober," Dandy grumbles, crossing his arms and glaring at anyone who dares look at them with raised eyebrows. Jimmy's drunken sobbing jags embarrass him, sure, but he'd still just as soon stab anyone who laughed at them.

"It was just so _sad_..." Jimmy cries, falling forward into Dandy's arms and weeping into his shoulder. Great. Now on top of everything he also looks fruity.

He pats Jimmy's back, desperate to diffuse the scene in any way possible. Already, though, there are gawkers. "There there..." he sighs. "Could you please not... you know... on this jacket? It's silk. I'm sick to death of that bitch Dora complaining about cleaning it."

Jimmy blows his nose so loudly that several more people turn and look at them. Dandy wishes he could disappear into the wallpaper.

He contorts, freeing himself from Jimmy's voracious embrace while the guy sniffles. He shoots a sideways glance at Dandy, his face wet and forlorn. "He just wanted a real boy to love..." he drawls, all sincerity and heartache.

Dandy holds back as one side of his mouth twitches. Jimmy _is_ kind of adorable like this, and there's a perverse pleasure in seeing Mr. Charisma, god of the girls, reduced to a weepy mess over a kids' movie. Forget the hands: Jimmy Darling's real Achilles heel is his drunk persona. It makes him human. Lovable, even, if Dandy could love.

He reaches for the hanky but decides he doesn't want to touch it in its current state, so he just thumbs the tears off Jimmy's face instead. His dark brows raise. "There, pet... You finished?"

"Hold on..." Jimmy holds a hand up, then blows his nose several more times, attracting another round of fans. He attempts to give the handkerchief back to Dandy, who makes a pinched face and motions for Jimmy to keep it.

"Kay, I'm finished."

Dandy stands up to go, smoothing his striped jacket down and avoiding eye contact with everyone. "So sensitive," he mutters, trying his best not to smile. "I really can't take you anywhere."

Jimmy gives a jumbled, derisive laugh. "Least _I_ didn't hide my eyes during the donkey scene..."

"You shut up," Dandy hisses. "Or I _will_ send you back to the freak show."

"You wouldn't da... oh god. God. Shit. I've gotta throw up."

"Come on," Dandy sighs, taking Jimmy by the sleeve of his denim jacket. "To the alley. I'll hold your bangs back."

He'd never say as much, but it's nice to be the cool one for once.


	2. Hairpin

**Thanks to shioriphantomhive for this prompt! I almost never write m/f, but this ended up really sweet and gave me major unexpected feels. Yay!**

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><p><em>Headcanon: AU Girl!Jimmy. <em>

Dandy squints down at the rubbers in the gift box before fixing his wounded gaze across the dining room table at Gloria.

"Prophylactics," she explains. "God knows our gene pool doesn't need the addition of whatever gave her those... hands."

"I would never violate that dear girl!" Dandy cries. "I love her! And furthermore, I'm taking her to the gala tonight no matter what you say!"

"You will _not_ make social pariahs of us for the sake of some new fetish," says his mother with uncharacteristic force. "I won't allow it."

"Why? Because she's a freak?" Dandy's voice breaks on the last word as tears shoot to his eyes. "Well so am I, mother! When I'm with her I feel normal!"

For a long moment the mother and son are silent, locked in a battle between Gloria's steely gaze and Dandy's fiery one. Dandy feels as if his heart could break. He doesn't know why. A few weeks earlier he could have sworn he didn't possess one at all, but when Jimmie entered his life it was as if the emotional world, black and white, came alive for him in glorious technicolor. Suddenly he feels tenderness, joy, compassion; even pain. Each little fire in his chest is a gift to him. He doesn't have to kill anymore. He doesn't have to pretend.

Finally he lifts his napkin to dab the tears away, blotting his nose before putting it down beside his unfinished plate. "Excuse me," he says coldly. "I need to get ready."

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><p>"Did you put it on?" Dandy asks excitedly, entering the playroom. "Oh, I just can't wait to see it on you! It fit, didn't it?"<p>

Jimmie nods, her legs folded under her and her familiar leather jacket wrapped around her torso protectively. She isn't used to wearing dresses. Her body feels exposed and small in them.

Something about the look of childlike wonder on Dandy's face moves her, though. Slowly, she stands and slips off the tattered jacket, letting it fall to the floor at her fused toes. Dandy breathes an enchanted sigh.

"You're the very image of... Audrey Hepburn."

And it's true in a way. The dress is simple black satin, because god knows Jimmie Darling wouldn't be caught dead in pink, and the cut does more to show off the girl in it than the dress itself. Pale and striking, Jimmie is tall but slender, with a delicate ski-jump of a nose and big, expressive brown eyes. Not exactly voluptuous, but the curves of her body exist; they are beautiful in their subtlety. So is the softness of her features. Those lips.

"Are you sure about this?" she asks. "I don't belong at some fancy gala, a place like this. Not with the things I've done."

"Nonsense," Dandy insists. His breath quickens, growing upset. "It isn't your fault. It was... them. Your mother, and that horrid Elsa. Parading you onto the stage nearly naked and selling you off to those... all those men, because you're beautiful and young."

Frantic, he takes the girl's swan-like neck in one hand just a little too roughly. "You are pure," he breathes. "You deserve the life of a princess. And you'll have it here, with me. You won't be anyone's but mine now, do you hear me? Mine and mine alone."

Jimmie's eyes meet Dandy's at an almost even level, and she blinks, swallowing. She won't let herself cry-she's too tough, too proud. She can't know how dearly Dandy wishes that she would, how much he longs to be honored with the duty of kissing her tears, tasting them, taming her. How much he aches for the cagey predator to weep in his arms.

He longs to kiss her, even now, but he stops himself out of respect. She isn't here to serve him physically. That can come later. Once she has his last name.

He lowers his gaze now, slipping the custom-made satin mittens out of his suit jacket's pocket. He tugs them onto her fused hands with all of the longing of a child opening a Christmas gift.

Jimmie flinches. "You don't think..."

Dandy smiles. "They're fabulous. Give it a month and every girl will want a pair, trust me."

"Yeah," chuckles Jimmie, her dimples showing. "Sure. And next they'll want my hands."

"They will," Dandy insists, with such unexpected force that even the freak show alumni is speechless.

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><p>Jimmie stares in the mirror, watching Dandy behind her brushing her hair, unfurling the knots of loose brown curl that fall around her shoulders. He brushes the tangled mess silky and pins it up in back with the rhinestone hair bow he bought her at the drug store along with a million other necessities: brushes, hairpins, powder, soaps, a little decorative comb with a mother of pearl handle. She'll never use half of it, but she can't fault the guy. He couldn't have been used to shopping for a girl.<p>

"Introducing to society," he whispers as the tendrils fall around her face and her eyes pool, big and uncertain in the mirror, "Miss Jaima Darling..."


	3. Bird Bones

**Sorry for the delay! The holidays got the better of me and I only had time to update my main story. I'll be doing these more regularly now and catching up with the requests in the order I got them. **

**Also, now we're totally shipping two characters who in canon are literally mortal enemies. Oh well. Haha.**

**Thanks to DawsonNova95 for this prompt! **

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><p><em>Headcanon: Dandy gets jealous when Jimmy gives other people attention.<em>

Jimmy spins on the dance floor, twirling Maggie so that the pleats of her emerald green skirt open up like a wingspan. His face is alight, lit by candles and grinning. The grin makes him look younger. The music seems to make him come alive.

Dandy hangs back against the wall. It all has the opposite effect on him. Rock music makes him feel as if he has lead in his shoes. He feels frozen and brittle, cagey and huddled into himself. He doesn't want to be touched. To make matters worse, the stupid pinheads won't leave him alone. They think pulling on his arms and trying to force him out onto the dance floor is hilarious.

"I love this guy," slurs Jimmy, pulling tattooed Paul into a beer-buzzed embrace. "Seriously... this guy. He's amazing."

"Here," Paul yells over the music, passing Ma Petite to Jimmy. "Take the birthday girl. She needs a spin."

"Aw!" Jimmy cries, holding the miniature girl under one arm. "My beauty!"

Dandy glowers, sipping his gin. Jimmy really doesn't call him by pet names enough, he decides. All he gets is "doll" on occasion, and never "my" anything.

Jimmy spins in circles like a human carnival ride as Ma Petite squeals. "Oh Jimmy!" she cries. "Jimmy, it is so fun!"

"Yeah?" he says, beaming, picking up the pace.

"Stop!" she cries, laughing. "Oh stop, Jimmy! You're making me dizzy!"

Dandy sighed audibly as Pepper and Salty approach him again, putting their grabby hands all into his personal space. "Pepper dance!" the microcephalic girl insists, practically yanking his shoulder out of place. _"Pepper dance!"_

"Yes, yes..." he hisses, pulling away from her. "Sure, whatever. Pepper dance alone."

Salty laughs raucously. He's the grunter of the two. _"No!"_ his companion insists, growing frustrated. "Pepper dance _with_ you!"

Jimmy looks over, seeming to finally notice Dandy's predicament. He puts Ma Petite down atop the table, where she happily digs into some cake.

"Hey doll," he says, approaching the wallflower.

Dandy sulks, saying nothing as he slips out the door. Jimmy follows, which of course is exactly what he wants.

"Aw, what is it?" the buzzed boy asks as his friend leans against the side of the circus tent, away from him, arms crossed. Jimmy raises his eyebrows. "I don't gotta tickle you, do I, to make you talk? Cause god help me, Dandy, I will. I will do that."

Dandy is silent. Jimmy thinks for a moment, his expression growing a bit more serious. He knows how Dandy can get sometimes about his freak show friends. "Come on," he says gently. "It's stupid. You know it's stupid. Don't be mad."

"You never give me that kind of attention," he says finally. His voice is low and petulant. He's thinking of bird skulls. Needles. Dead cats.

"What?" questions Jimmy, his blond eyebrows quirking. "Pick you up?"

Dandy exhales an angry breath through his nose.

"...Cause I hate to tell ya, my dollface, but I'm probably gonna need both arms to do that. You're a little bigger than Ma Petite."

Dandy's face softens slightly, relief flooding his chest like bath water or cough syrup. He holds back a smile. "That's not what I..."

"Wait," grunts Jimmy, stooping to place an arm behind Dandy's knees. "I think I gotcha..." His arm muscles quirk, straining to lift a weight similar to his own. "Agh! ...There, I gotcha."

Dandy squirms and looks at him from his new vantage point. "Stop it," he says.

"No," laughs Jimmy, out of breath. "You wanted this. You wanted my undivided attention, and now you've got it." He exhales, struggling to carry his friend over to the Ferris wheel.

"Geez," he mutters, plunking Dandy down into the lowest seat. "You're heavier than you look, you know that?"

Jimmy climbs into the seat beside him and pulls the rickety latch shut, reaching out to pull the crank that sends them soaring, slowly, with a tinny lurch up into the night air.

"Whatcha thinking about?" he asks his still-pensive companion as the wheel takes flight, bringing them counter-clockwise up over the camp.

"Skeletons," Dandy mutters. He doesn't know how Jimmy does it, how he momentarily escapes the darkness of his own head. No amount of beer or music or cartoons or carnival rides ever washes the death from Dandy's mind. "House cats."

Jimmy laughs lightly, mussing Dandy's spit-curled hair. A little sadness crosses his face, a twitch of empathy. He knows how dark it is inside there.

"Pretty up here, huh?" he says after a moment, as the wheel takes them up to the tip-top, the lights and tents of Fräulein Elsa's Cabinet of Curiosities mere dollhouse pieces now in their line of sight.

Dandy nods. Smiling sadly, Jimmy makes a clumsy attempts at setting the guy's hair back in place. Giving up, he slips his hand into Dandy's, feeling his the slightest squeeze return around his.


	4. Good Strong Hands

**Okay, this request is from karipatino. While female Jimmy with Dandy ended up unexpectedly sweet, the opposite wound up really hot! Who knew that Dandy was such a sexpot as a girl? For some reason I imagine her (him) looking like a young Dita Von Teese. **

**There's been some slight disagreement in the comments about gender-bending stories. Here's my take: They're not something I'd write on my own, but I have no problem writing them if they're requested. I actually have fun with unexpected prompts! I don't see myself doing much more, however, since there isn't much left I could do short of making them both girls.**

**I thought I'd take this moment, though, to discuss a few things I won't write. There isn't much. I have some very odd kinks of my own, which may be featured here, so I'm not one to judge. However: Really extreme BDSM/torture stuff, certain really out-there fringe fetishes (i.e, poop), and pedophilia are prompts I won't take. I don't judge people who are into any of that (besides pedophilia, obviously), but I personally am not comfortable writing it, just like some people aren't comfortable with some of my weirder kinks. I also won't write things I've already written. So check and make sure!**

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><p><em>Headcanon: AU girl!Dandy.<em>

It's a rare night of freedom for Jimmy Darling. As one of the most able-minded and able-bodied members of the freak show, he's had to grow up fast. He was only ten the first time his mother left him alone to mind Salty and Pepper, and by sixteen, he'd become an all-purpose babysitter for his vulnerable comrades. His formative years weren't filled with the adventure and experimentation that most people's were. He was simply too needed.

Now and then, though, his mother and Elsa give him a break. Once in a while, Jimmy-now in his mid twenties-can breath. He can throw on a pair of leather mittens, drive into town, and find quiet solace at a bar-and sometimes, if he's lucky, in the arms of a girl.

The band playing isn't great. Jimmy, nursing a beer and feeling bored and lonely, considers calling it a night. It would be a shame to waste one of the few free evenings he gets per year, but if he's only going to sit, warming a barstool and growing depressed, then what's the point?

That's when he sees her.

She's alone, too, absently swirling the cherry in her drink and staring off past the shitty band with a look of bored, superior contempt. Her face is mesmerizing: ivory skin and red lipstick; full, arched dark eyebrows and pale blue-green eyes framed by thick black lashes. She's of average height, with an hourglass figure that's just slightly top-heavy. Her gold heels tap impatiently at the bottom of the barstool, not in time with the music.

Jimmy slides into the seat next to her. He isn't confident that he can pull a girl like her, but he has to try. He puts on his most charming smile and goes in for the kill.

"Hey doll," he says, dimples showing. "May I buy you another one of those?"

Dandy looks the boy up and down, deciding that he'll do. He's handsome, with a spark of intelligence in his eyes. That's a must. Intelligent eyes are _ever_ so much more fun to watch as the light in them goes out.

"And you are?" she asks coolly, casting a critical look at his mittens.

"Jimmy," he says, baring a crooked little-boy grin. "Jimmy Darling. And you?"

"Dandy," she says, not caring to divulge the last name that marks her the heiress to the Mott fortune. Her clothes set her a class apart from the rest of this crowd all on their own.

_Huh,_ thinks Jimmy, _the upper crust sure do give their kids weird names. _But he knows better than to voice such a thought. "Dandy, huh?" he repeats. "That's pretty." He sips his beer and gathers his confidence, knowing it's now or never. "Anyhow, Dandy, you look about as thrilled with this lame joint as I am. What do you say we get out of here, go somewhere a little more intimate?"

For an agonizing few second the young woman just looks at him, but she's kind enough not to let Jimmy squirm long. "I'd like that," she says, setting her drink down on the table and picking up her gold box-clutch style purse. "I'd like that _very_ much, Jimmy."

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><p>In the alley behind the pool hall the pair kiss voraciously, biting and grinding at each other in a way that's almost violent. Dandy's green silk dress is hiked up around her hips, the back of it growing dirty from the side of the building as she straddles Jimmy, letting him and the wall support her full weight. She can feel him, hard through his jeans, against her middle.<p>

As quiet as memory, she gently removes one hand from his back and reaches for the knife in her purse.

"Mmm," sighs Jimmy, his eyes shut against her neck as he breaths in her scent, a heady perfume of tuberose and violet. He bites at her, gently sucking skin. "You are... the most _gorgeous_ girl I have ever seen in my life..."

Dandy breaths in tensely and grips the knife's carved golden handle. She doesn't know why, exactly, she does it. Since early childhood she's felt compelled to kill, as if her very being were rebelling against the ennui of the upper class, the sameness and formality. So boring. She craves the dirty things, the uncontrolled messes, the streams of red that comes bubbling out of necks when sliced. That's the only truth she's ever known, the only feeling. So she's gone and made a game of it.

"Oh really?" she teases, drawing it from her purse and running the protective sheath down Jimmy's spine, making him quiver.

"Really truly," he moans, moving one mittened hand to caress Dandy's ample cleavage.

She smiles. "I bet those are good, strong hands..."

Jimmy pauses. There's a chance that he's about to blow it, that she'll run screaming, but something possesses him to take that risk. "You don't know the half of it," he chuckles, pulling away from her just enough to slip the mittens off.

In the dim glow of the streetlights, they look to Dandy like poetry. They're fused and grotesque, elongated and massive. _Freak._ Tears come to her cold eyes. She quietly slips the knife, uncapped, back into her clutch. She couldn't harm one of her own kind, something so beautiful.

The wide-eyed wonder in the usually coy girl's face gives Jimmy all the answer he needs. "Lemme show you how I use them, doll," he whispers, reaching down to further lift her skirt.


End file.
